


Day 1: Bake It Til You Make It

by SaiTheWriter



Category: Before Crisis: Final Fantasy VII, Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Baking, Cookies, Gen, M/M, Tis the season for no reason fa la la la la, Turks (Compilation of FFVII)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:27:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28236933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaiTheWriter/pseuds/SaiTheWriter
Summary: Elena's no good very bad week.
Relationships: Rufus Shinra/Tseng implied
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17
Collections: Shinra Holiday 2020





	Day 1: Bake It Til You Make It

“-miss ‘em?” Reno was prodding at what looked to be a severely caffeine depleted Rude, who was clutching his coffee like a lifeline as she entered the office.

Elena had wandered around the corner and right into their half awake musings. It was commonplace for them to mutter to each other as they forced themselves to wake, especially on early morning shifts, like this week. There was a minor need to get things done early this month due to the end of the season holidays, and the grueling gala duties they would all inevitably end up attached to.

“Haven’t had anything close.” Rude agreed, taking another slow sip from his mug. The purple cup proudly proclaimed ‘Throwing Shade’ surrounding a pair of glasses. A Reno special from some holiday or another. 

Setting down her armload of files from her inbox, Elena glanced between the two, reaching up to brush back her hair after being under a woolen hat. “Close to what?” She finally broke in, bringing two bleary gazes towards her in surprise. 

“Oh, ah.” Groggy Reno was cute, when he wasn’t being petulant and obnoxious. So, not often. “We got to talkin’ bout the old potlucks we’d have, and I remembered how good your sister’s cookies were. Ain’t had shit like it.” A glance towards Rude had an affirming nod, though Reno seemed at least a little sheepish about the mention now that she was present. 

Elena’s gut clenched, the mention bringing forth that immediate twist of self-confidence drop, along with a roil of guilt. After all these years, she could still not help the knee jerk reaction that came with living up to perfection. 

“Oh those? You should have mentioned sooner.” The blond shrugged nonchalantly, tossing her hair back while reaching for her own, much more processional looking tall cup. “It’s a family recipe, I could have made those for you.”

“Wait, really?” Reno’s eyes, which upto that point had remained half open in a sleepy cast, abruptly lit up and widened. “You’re just fuckin’ with me yo, ain’t I told you not to bust my chops before nine?” The huff of dismissal curled in her belly, a chance outing that could have truly let her play it off as merely a jest.

“I wouldn’t have offered if I hadn’t meant it.” She retorted almost flippantly. There was no going back from this one, and his sudden cheer rocked her right to that forced grin, feeling all the more brittle by the genuine smile faintly tilting up his lips. “I’ll just bring some in next Tuesday before we start setting up for gala duties. Won’t really be able to eat much there anyways.” Another shrug helped bring her attention back to the paperwork on her desk, happy for the task to help shove the conversation along.

“Shit, I’m down for that.” Reno murmured, his attention abruptly pulled away with the buzz of his phone. 

Which brought her to her current predicament. She’d spent the day working through her mind, trying to recall if there was a specific cookie her sister had enjoyed making, but the memories came up empty. It wasn’t like she paid attention, and more’s the pity. Rather than wrack her brain further Elena merely settled into the idea of trying out several recipes on her own first, content to test various flavors until she found something vaguely familiar from home How hard could it be, right?

Wrong.

The sheer volume of cookie recipes that stared back from her search bar later at home were appalling. She never had too much of a sweet tooth herself, and the idea that the list could be so vast...mind boggling. However, she wasn’t the type to give up, especially not with her reputation on the line! Taking in a deep breath, the blond set in to gather a list, buying enough ingredients to try a few batches a day. It was far more than what she’d thought tro try in the first place, but a careful allotment of time meant she could knuckle down and have either a perfected recipe or a good idea by the end of the weekend.

~*E*~

The kitchen was a write off.

Flour, chocolate chips, egg shells, all manner of ingredients littered every surface in her cozy kitchen. Not a single spot was spared, even the floor held splotches of unusable batter, runny or thick. Hells, even her favorite apron looked like not even a run in with a rock on a laundry tin would bring the worst of the stains out.

And yet, she bent still over her counter, aching shoulder mixing yet another bowl of potential cookie dough and cursing her hubris. It was already Sunday night, and given the longer hours of their last week, she wasn’t likely to have much free time after tonight to experiment. Already she had several recipes ticked off, the lack of headway building a knot of tension in her gut. What if she couldn’t find the right type? Reno would probably get over it, so would Rude, but they would know she lied…

Twisting her lips, Elena furrowed her brow and stirred harder, intent on her self-induced mission once again. They were stuck in office all week, a few short nights of sleep wouldn’t kill her. She was a Turk, after all. Sleep deprivation was practically part of training! Setting her bowl down on the stovetop, only free real estate available, the blonde jabbed the stove dial and licked at her opposite thumb covered in batter while she idly set the oven to preheat for the umpteenth time. 

Hm. A glance down towards the front of her henley revealed a serious need for getting clean, and given the preheat, she had time for a quick hop in. Dusting as much flour off as possible, the blond turned towards her bathroom, gathering up both towel and robe on her way in. 

  
  


A good hot shower helped work the kinks and worries from her mind, though the longer she stood under the spray, the thicker the steam in the shower became. The smell of acrid smoke broke her from her thoughts, immediately sending her into a panicked horror. With a hurried yelp, the Turk snagged up her robe and threw it on, hair only half rinsed of conditioner and sending water everywhere. Skidding out to the front room, Elena had a moment to look upon her kitchen in abject misery as while the fire alarm kicked in. 

“No no no, dammit.” She hissed under her breath, taking quick strides to the oven display and turning it off. Another jerk had the window open, waving a dishrag to let the smoke from the oven slide out once she’d dragged the damned door open. Now that the smoke had elsewhere to go, she could see better into the disaster. 

In her distracted thoughts, she’d turned the dial for the stovetop, not the oven, her practiced movements distracted enough to move to the right and turn instead. It led to a melted mixing bowl, the batter and plastic both pooled down across the surface and down into the cracks of the oven itself. Well, the joke about writing off her kitchen earlier in the evening certainly came true, oh the irony indeed.

One embarrassing call to her building supervisor later, and her fate was sealed. There was no way she could continue her pace at home, not without an oven to bake in. It meant come morning she’d have to fess up, the thought of dropping her head in apology to the two more than enough to send her nerves right back up. And to think, she hadn’t even prepared her lunch for the next day before the kitchen had been ruined. At least she could probably make something in the kitchenette in the dep…

The Turk’s kitchenette!

Hope gradually lit her features, the realization cheering her immediately. It wasn’t a large setup, but it did have a small dormitory sized oven. If she could run out for more ingredients the next night, she could come in late and pull an all nighter on her last few recipe ideas. Once she was sure the rest of the room wasn’t in danger of burning down, Elena tromped back towards the shower clean off the rest of the conditioner, planning out her next move from there. 

~*E*~

“Mn, I expected to find Tseng.” The cool voice startled her from her thoughts, turning quickly from her distracted misery to face her visitor. Rufus fucking Shinra. Swallowing thickly, she eyed him, surprised by his appearance. “Ah, sir! I er. He’s not here, sir. He left some time late afternoon to field some calls from home.” Why was he coming for the boss? Tseng had mentioned going over the first party setups and perimeter, but nothing that needed the President of all people here. It was late, far later than she'd expect even him to have come in, ergo her reason for not being too quiet in the first place.

“Is that what he said?” In sedate strides the blond brought himself forward, taking in the remnants of baking trays all over the counter tops in the Turks kitchenette. “And I suppose with that you decided to have yourself a stress bake off?”

“I- well. I had to let my building super take over repairs today, my kitchen had an...unfortunate incident with the stovetop. So, that meant no access to my kitchen.” It came in a rush, her cheeks tinging in embarrassment. The man in front of her was casually sliding his gaze over the batches of lopsided cookies, easy as you please. Her bosses’ boss! Why would he even care about her apartment? Sure, he often swung down for meeting with Tseng, but that didn’t mean he cared to dally about her baking blues.

“I’d assume this means you’ve yet to perfect your mixture.” Rufus murmured, moving to rest beside the still cooling tray of cookies hot from the oven.

“It’s not that I haven’t perfected it sir!” She protested, turning back to rummage through the icing and sprinkles for the peppermint flakes the recipe called for. “I just ah, misplaced my sister’s recipe, and well, just wanted to make a few to see if they jump started my memory.” She turned back, just in time to meet a facial expression completely ready to call her on her shit.

  
  


“Elena, you’re not a rookie not anymore.” His head tilted to eye the remnants of a failed batch and hummed low to himself. “There’s no need to go to such an extent to prove yourself.” 

Her gut twisted, the pointed murmur just another reminder that the man was not the shallow visage he often presented in certain business circles. He was shrewd, calculating, and cunning. Slowly her shoulders drooped, unwilling to lie to the man more than she already had. “I know sir. I just wanted to make them happy.” She turned, busying herself with rinsing out the implements she’d used so far. Unlike at home, she’d been far more careful to ensure the kitchenette stayed intact.

“Then perhaps you should take some of your favorites.” The crunch had her by surprise, her head shifting to watch him chew into the bite of cookie from the batch she’d just iced. “These aren’t bad, you know. And you’ve made them. I doubt anything Reno’s eaten in the last month has been from anywhere but the inside of a take out bag. Barring something Rude might have cooked, of course.” Oh, low blow.

His dry wit might have distracted her momentarily, but the initial observation returned, gaze flicking to the sweet gingerbread treats laying along the cooling sheet in misshapen but apparently edible piles. “If you’d like to take some sir, you’re more than welcome. As you can see..” She gestured to the rest strewn in tins along the counter. “I have plenty.” 

Piercing eyes watched her from the other side of the modest island. Assessing before turning sly. “I have a meeting to get to, but I expect my own batch when you bring them to your team.” Dusting his fingers off from the treat he’d nicked, the other blond began a retreat. “Just leave them in Tseng’s office, if you please, he’ll bring them along at some point.”

There was nothing to be done but watch his retreating back as he moved further into the Turk level, filled with a renewed sense of self, listening for the door to click before turning back to regard the batches on the kitchen counters. A pseudo giddiness appeared, her smile half but warm nonetheless. These were perfectly sensible cookies, he was right! She was good at following directions, at substituting when necessary. Nothing here had been a disaster due to taste, only because she couldn’t recognize the flavor as something from her past. 

Lifting up one of the warm morsels, she bit in, crunching experimentally. Oh, they were rather nice! Absentmindedly she crunched on, setting her test treat to the side and gathering up what was needed to start parceling them out in boxes. Two were set aside for the boys, and two were set aside for Tseng, the latter of his for the president as requested. An idle thought cheered her immediately, realizing she could just pack them all up and be done with it, leave them on desks and in offices alike. She wouldn’t even need to catch an all nighter! 

So cheered was she by this thought, her steps moved to autopilot, stumbling to a halt abruptly when her thoughts tumbled together in a slow burn of realization. 

Rufus had ventured further, not to the elevator. He was still there on the floor. 

_ The meeting calls. _

A hand came up to cover her mouth in case she accidentally let out an inward shriek of eureka.

_ Was Tseng hooking up with the President?! _

Needless to say, she hurried to scoop up her cookies and book it from the floor, leaving it alone save for the two sharp smiles watching the feed. She could drop the cookies off tomorrow, there was no way in hell she’d be caught dead ruining a night for either of them!


End file.
